


Soar

by Sunqueen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bathing/Washing, Blanket dubcon inherent to a/b/o dynamics, Brock is an asshole as usual, Bucky is a ray of sunshine, Bucky is a virgin, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Consent, Firefighter Steve Rogers, First Time, I shook a stripper and a lot of backstory fell out, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Omega Bucky Barnes, Rimming, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve is a little shit in every universe, Stripper Bucky Barnes, plot if you squint, very minor pet death in passing in the first paragraphs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunqueen/pseuds/Sunqueen
Summary: In a perfect symphony between lights and music, suddenly there’s a male dancer standing in the center of the stage, his stance wide and aggressive. He’s wearing tac gear, his face partially covered by a mask that Steve can only describe as a muzzle.Or the Stripper Bucky a/b/o fic that nobody asked for
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 106
Kudos: 468





	1. 1. Foreplay

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in May. It's my first a/b/o story that I'm posting (and the first on this account).  
> The ending is not to my liking but you'll have to deal ;) 
> 
> _It's not what I asked for  
>  Sometimes life just slips in through a back door  
> And carves out a person  
> And makes you believe it's all true  
> And now I've got you  
> From: Waitress - She used to be mine_

It’s been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, Steve thinks as he washes the soot off his face. 

The hot summer sun had just climbed to its highest point in the sky when the call had come in - a house fire, a family of three living on the premises. 

They’d jumped into their gear and had raced to the address. By the time they got there, the family had been safely outside, thankfully. But no matter how hard they’d tried, the house couldn’t be saved. The family dog, trapped inside, had died from smoke inhalation by the time they could get to it. 

It had taken hours for Steve and his team to contain the fire. The house was beyond salvation, and losing everything  _ and _ a beloved pet was a traumatic event for the family involved. As the others went back to the fire station, Steve’d stayed behind with two of his men to make sure the fire was really out. His gear was heavy, making his shirt underneath cling to his back. His eyes and nose were blackened with soot and he couldn’t get the taste of fire and smoke out of his mouth even though he’d worn a protective mask the whole time. 

It was past midnight by the time they left the scene and got back to the station. Steve was surprised when he found out that the rest of the team had waited for them, just to check if they were okay. 

Now, in the shower at the station, he tries to let the hot water wash the day away. He’s still drying off his hair, planning to change back into civilian clothes, go home and crash, when the others announce they’re going to have a few drinks at the bar down the street. 

“You should come,” Sam says. His big, soulful eyes are tired but he looks earnest as always. “We all could use a drink to forget about today.”

Steve thinks about it and concedes. Every time he closes his eyes he sees the family standing outside on their lawn, the beta parents looking at the smoking ruins of what used to be their house. Their little boy, inconsolable at having lost his dog. They’d lost everything in just one afternoon. 

“They still have each other,” Sam says, understanding right away what Steve is thinking. Steve never knew his father and lost his mother aged eight - he knows full well that things can be replaced. Family can’t.

Sam squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “C’mon, let me buy you a drink.”

The team trail out into the warm night, heading for the bar down the street. Steve takes the rear with Sam and watches his men as they talk and laugh, trying to get rid of the day’s events. Brock’s in front, the cocky Alpha as always in the lead. Steve’s butted heads with him more than once, but in the end Steve is not only the team captain, he is simply more dominant than Brock. Still, the other Alpha apparently can’t stop himself from posturing from time to time. Thor is the third Alpha on the team, a surprisingly soft spoken man for a guy his size. Sam’s the levelheaded beta. He serves as a diffuser from time to time, especially when Brock acts up. Their other beta, Sharon, didn’t join them for drinks. The woman keeps to herself. Steve knows her last name and knows she’s unmated, but apart from that he knows preciously little about her private life. Clint, their newest member, is an omega but if you don’t know it, it’s hard to tell. The guy is so big he puts some Alphas to shame when it comes to strength and determination. 

Brock had been adamantly against Clint joining the team, but Steve had refused to be cowed. Clint was a valuable team member, fearless but not taking unnecessary risks, levelheaded and strong. Steve had worried at first that Clint’s scent might be distracting, but the omega was very good at hiding his pheromones. It only came out when they were on a scene like today, when the temperature inside their suits felt as high as the fire they were fighting, but then the Alphas stank to high heaven too and Clint never showed any indication that it bothered him in any way. 

So, Steve had decided that his men could very well learn to deal with Clint like Clint dealt with them. The only concession was that Clint used the communal showers after the Alphas were done. And so far, fingers crossed, not a single incident had taken place. 

“Aw man,” Brock exclaims suddenly. “Fuck!”

They’ve reached the bar, but it must be later than any of them apparently realized, because the bar closed for the night. Steve checks his watch. Two am. No wonder. 

“I know a club,” Brock announces, turning back to the crew. “It’s a few minutes from here. It comes with a view,” he says pointedly, looking at Clint. “But at least we can get us a beer there.”

“I think I’ll just go home,” Steve says. He’s not fond of strip clubs and he doesn’t like the crowds there. 

“Nah, come have a drink,” Sam coaxes. “I know you hate those places but you need to unwind before you go to bed. Your dreams will thank you for it.” 

Steve sighs and hangs his head. “Fine, but I’m not watching.”

“We can sit in the back,” Sam says placatingly. 

“One drink,” Steve stipulates. He knows Sam is right. Doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

Brock, who’s been listening in, lets out a whoop and leads the way to the club he’s been talking about. 

Thor bows out gracefully and wishes them a good weekend. His mate Jane is waiting at home for him. Steve doesn’t blame them for it. 

So it’s the four of them that walk to the club. The entrance is down an alley, and Steve already regrets letting himself be talked into going. Sam likewise looks dubious.

Clint just seems happy to tag along like usual.

A bouncer looks them over and greets Brock by name. “Show’s almost over, I can let you in no charge.” 

They murmur a thanks, trekking down the narrow hall and up some stairs that lead to the main floor of the club. 

“You’re a regular huh,” Sam says casually as they walk into the big room. It’s a little seedy, the predictable red velvet everywhere and low lighting hiding the things that cannot stand the light of day. 

They walk into a wall of scents; pheromones, sweat and bleach all muddling together into a murky current that’s so unpleasant it makes the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck on end. He tries to take shallow breaths and follows the others deeper into the club. It’s quite crowded, and signs tell Steve some special show is going on tonight.

A woman is dancing on the stage, her act nearly finished. She moves sensually, swinging out a high heeled foot and showing her flexibility in easy movements. Her long, fiery red hair seems to glow in the spotlight, forming a halo as she throws her head back and makes her hair fan out. 

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Brock says as he secures them a corner booth. It’s not very crowded, the audience consisting mostly of male Alphas. There’s a rowdy bunch sitting right in front of the stage, probably a stag do. They whistle for the red haired dancer to get closer so they can slide some paper into her panties. She winks at them and continues her routine. 

She really is very pretty. 

Clint can’t seem to keep his eyes off her, either. 

“First round’s on me,” Brock says as he flags down a waitress. “What do you guys want?”

Steve orders a beer, as does Clint. Sam opts for a soda. He never drinks, and simply rolls his eyes at Brock’s cajoling. 

The waitress takes their orders, and Steve notes she stands just outside of Brock’s arms’ reach. She’s in a bustier and glossy briefs. The sturdy boots she wears underneath clash with the rest of her style, but Steve can imagine how much high heels can hurt if you’re on your feet all night. Like many of the other omegas working in this place, she’s wearing a collar and sleeves that cover her lower arms, keeping her scent glands away from patrons. 

He makes eye contact with the girl, just to reassure himself that she’s doing okay. Her big eyes are almost doe-like. Her name tag reads Wanda. He wonders if it’s her real name. She smiles warmly at Clint though, which he reads as reassuring. 

On the stage, the song changes and the red haired woman invites the groom from the stag party up on the stage for a lap dance. She puts the guy in a chair and dances around him, her movements sensual and practiced. Her hands trail along his jaw and through his hair. The guy tilts his head but Steve doubts he can smell anything but the leather sleeves that cover her forearms down to her wrists. The audience hoots when the dancer swings her leg up high, over the guy’s head to sit down into his lap. She places his hands on her hips and moves her pelvis, the curve of her back downright sensual. The audience roars as she arches, throwing her head back in a posture of ecstasy. 

She tilts all the way back, wrapping her legs around the guy’s waist for leverage and displaying her body upside down to the roaring audience. Steve looks on and marvels at how strong the dancer has to be to pull off her movements like they are effortless. 

“Hot, no?” Brock says. He sips his beer. “Wouldn’t kick that out of my bed, for sure.” 

“Hmm,” Steve hums, noncommittal. As gorgeous as the woman is, he doesn’t feel any lust when he watches her. But then again, although Steve likes all people, his preference has always been with men. 

“I like her,” Clint announces. 

Brock looks over at him. “Didn’t know you were into omegas.” 

Clint raises his brows. “My man, she is not an omega.”

Steve looks over at the dancer again. He’d have pegged her as an omega but that’s him assuming most dancers must be omega. Clint, being an omega himself, probably has a better read on who has the same designation as he does. 

The dance ends and the woman kisses the Alpha’s cheek before she sends him on his merry way and saunters off the stage. 

“That was the ever lovely Natalia,” the emcee announces as he walks onto the stage. He’s dressed as a gentleman, looking almost middle aged. His broad shoulders betray his designation as Alpha. “She’ll be back later and you can book a private booth with her. It’ll be an experience to never forget!” The voice pauses and the music changes. “And now, the moment you’ve been waiting for. Some say he’s a ghost. Others claim he’s a failed government experiment. But he’s here for you tonight for your entertainment. Give it up for... The Asset!”

The crowd roars as the lights go dark, a stroboscope flashing on. Steve squints against the aggressive light and listens to the bass that rumbles out of the speakers. A wave of anticipation goes through the audience when a figure stalks onto the stage. 

In a perfect symphony between lights and music, suddenly there’s a male dancer standing in the center of the stage, his stance wide and aggressive. He’s wearing tac gear, his face partially covered by a mask that Steve can only describe as a muzzle. 

A low bass morphs into a hard version of a song he vaguely recognizes and the guy starts moving. 

For some reason, Steve can’t look away. The guy’s movements are sinuous, his strength showing in the ease in which he moves, crawling over the stage like he’s gliding on ice. 

He makes eye contact with the audience, looking at them like he doesn’t care if they like what they’re seeing or not. He gets up in the face of one of the Alphas of the stag do, his posture intimidating even though Steve’s pretty sure this dancer’s an omega. 

A damn near perfect one, at that. 

Then the shirt goes off, revealing a lithe body with lean muscles and cut abs. Steve watches, mesmerized, as the skin moves over those muscles as the guy twists and gyrates his torso, tilting his pelvis to the beat of the music. His hands drag down his waist, drawing attention to his abs and the v of his hips. A faint happy trail disappears into low slung pants. When Steve’s eyes travel back up, he notices that the guy is looking directly at him.

The guy, The Asset, jumps off the stage and stalks through the audience. He pays attention to random men and women, dragging his hand through a woman’s hair and allowing one of the Alphas from the stag party to squeeze his pec, guiding the Alpha’s hand down his body in a grip that looks gentle, but Steve can see the strength needed to keep the Alphas hands where the dancer wants them. 

He is absolutely gorgeous, Steve thinks. It’s only when he notices Sam looking up, brow raised, that he realizes he said that out loud. 

The guy comes over to their booth, a murder strut that shouldn’t be so damned erotic, dark eyes burning over his mask. He kneels before Brock, twisting his hips with his knees wide while he goes down, the movement obscene and erotic, and he pushes Brock’s knees apart so he can slide in between them, crawling back up Brock’s body without actually touching him. 

Brock sits back, salacious grin on his face, and watches the dancer with heated eyes. When his hand comes up to touch, the dancer,  _ The Asset _ , Steve thinks, grips Brock’s wrist with one hand to hold it down. The other hand comes up to wag his finger while he shakes his head slowly: ‘no.’ 

When Brock tries again, much to Steve’s dismay, The Asset moves away fluidly, still keeping to the beat of the music. He looks over his mask at Steve and throws him a wink before he saunters back to the stage. 

The guy knows how to play his audience, Steve thinks. He knows when to move slow and when to pop into the beat of the music, and Steve can’t tear his eyes away from the dancer’s beautiful form. 

As the song draws to an end, The Asset does a final sweep of the audience, dodging groping hands with practised ease, moving around like he owns the place. It drives the crowd wild. 

As he goes back to the stage, Steve can see what a  _ fantastic _ ass is hidden inside those tac pants.

Then the music morphs into something new and the red-haired dancer comes back up the stage, as well as two others. The four of them do a routine, moving their bodies in sync, sometimes even dancing together in displays so erotic Steve can’t help the tightening in his jeans. Even though no body parts are in sight, it’s a damn lush show. The Asset is paired with the red-haired woman, Natalia, and he stands behind her, head close to her neck in a dominant display. 

Which is ironic since Steve’s pretty sure The Asset is omega and Natalia is not. 

But still. You know. Hot as fuck.

Steve swallows dryly and picks up his beer just to have something else to focus on. And then the four dancers proceed to walk into the audience and invite people from the crowd up on the stage. The world stops for a moment when The Asset stalks over to Steve like he’s on a mission and holds out his hand in invitation. 

Steve looks at the dancer, at his eyes that glitter just above the mask. The dancer leans in close, like he’s about to scent Steve, and it shouldn’t be so hot but Steve’s only human, after all. 

“If you want out at any point, just say so,” the dancer says. His voice is surprisingly clear behind the mask. 

Steve desperately wants to catch a whiff of the man’s scent, but he’s wearing a collar and he must be on a crapload of scent blockers to boot. 

“You good to come up with me?”

Steve nods and lets himself be pulled to his feet. He has a good six inches on the dancer but he follows like an eager puppy when the guy leads the way up on the stage. Chairs have been placed there and Steve is brought to the leftmost one. He glances over to Clint, Sam and Brock, and wonders if he’s ever going to live down the endless tormenting that will definitely ensue after this night. 

Steve lets himself be pushed down onto the chair. The crowd goes wild, and Steve’s pretty sure the fact that he’s an obvious Alpha letting himself be led by someone else, probably an omega, is fuel to their fire. He sits back and watches as the dancer circles him. He feels stalked in the most delicious way and even though the dancer’s body is gorgeous beyond description, it’s the eyes Steve can’t look away from. 

When the dancer is behind him, doing something that makes the audience roar, Steve can only smile a little awkwardly like he can tell the other members of the audience pulled up on the stage are doing. Then suddenly, the dancer is leaning in again. 

“What’s your name?”

“Steve,” he says honestly. 

“Steve,” the dancer repeats into his ear, like it’s a prayer. Goosebumps raise on Steve’s skin, showing on his bare arms. “Can I touch you?”

Steve inhales, considering. It’s been literal years since he’s had sex, preferring to even spend his ruts alone instead of with an anonymous fuck. He’s touch-starved, as Sam calls it, and while he longs for a human connection, he doesn’t want it to be meaningless. 

“If you get something out of it, too,” Steve concedes. He senses it makes the dancer pause, but then he’s moving again so that he’s in front of Steve, crowding into his space. Again he can’t look away from the dancer’s eyes, even as he does something with his hips that elicits hoots from the audience. 

“Can I scent you?”

Steve huffs a laugh. He didn’t bother to put on his neutralizing cologne after his shower at the fire station, thinking he’d be home soon anyway. It’s been so long since someone scented him the thought actually pleases him. “Have at it.” 

The dancer’s eyes crinkle, indicating a smile, and then he moves away again for an intermezzo with Natasha. They twirl around each other sensuously, and from their movements Steve can tell how well they know each other, moving like one being instead of two. 

And then the mask comes off. 

The crowd roars as the dancer turns his back to them, and Steve fights himself to crane his neck and see the guy’s face. When he finally looks at Steve, everything goes quiet inside the Alpha’s mind. The man is, simply put, stupidly handsome. His features are close to perfection, with strong cheekbones and full lips that curve down in a natural, sulky pout. A subtly cleft chin is framed by a strong jawline and Steve already aches to draw these features. 

His entire body clenches at the sight of The Assett’s face, and with the tight shirt he’s wearing, he knows there’s no way to hide his reaction. Judging from the way the dancer’s eyes flick down to his abs and then back up, he noticed it, too. 

The dancer saunters over, hips moving fluently, and sits down on Steve’s lap. Steve’s grateful it hides his crotch from the audience’s view, because having The Asset this close is starting to make things really tight in the jean department. 

The dancer grabs Steve’s wrists and guides his hands up to his neck, where his long fingers frame the collar for a moment before they’re being dragged down his torso. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat and Steve stupidly makes a point to keep his touch as gentle as possible. He’s not sure if The Asset wants to be touched at all and if what he’s doing is just for show. 

He tries not to read into how the Asset’s nipples seem to tighten when Steve’s fingers brush down his lithe body. When Steve tears his gaze away from where his hands are touching, he can see that the dancer is biting his lower lip. He presses Steve’s hands on his hips and leans in then, doing something obscene that Steve would kill to repeat with them both naked, and drags his nose up the side of Steve’s neck. 

If he weren’t that close, Steve doesn’ think he’d have noticed how the dancer tenses for just a moment, his nose lingering for longer than Steve would expect in the context of a public lap dance. 

His steadily growing erection kicks wildly when a tongue darts out and tastes his scent gland. The hands on his shoulders tighten. 

“Sorry,” is whispered into his ear immediately after.

“It’s okay,” Steve reassures him quickly. “Wish I could smell you, too.” Because surely a guy this gorgeous would have a scent to match. 

At that, the dancer moves away abruptly, climbing into the pillar that’s at the back of the stage and thrusting his hips like he means it. It gives Steve a moment to gather his bearings and he looks over at the other people on the stage. The dancer called Natasha has taken a woman on the stage with her, and the girl seems to be having the time of her life as Natasha leans in close like they’ll kiss and then pulls away at the last possible moment.

And then The Asset is back, pulling Steve up to his feet and shoving the chair back with his foot without even looking where it ends up. He places Steve flat on the floor, supporting his back with surprising strength as he guides him down.

“This okay? Not all Alphas like it,” the dancer checks as he hovers over Steve at all fours. 

“‘s Fine,” Steve murmurs. He kind of wishes they were alone. 

He kind of hates his brain for reading more into this than is actually happening. 

The guy is at work, for fuck’s sake. Steve’s just a faceless john who will be forgotten before the night’s over. 

But then the dancer crawls up Steve’s body in such an intimate and erotic way that Steve has to squeeze his eyes shut for just a moment against the onslaught of arousal that floods his body. 

The dancer leans in and bumps his nose against Steve’s, the gesture so unexpectedly familial that his eyes open in shock. The dancer grins and leans in, hovering just above Steve, and tilts his head in such a way that the collar gives a little, allowing some of his scent to escape. 

The pheromones hit Steve like a freight train and his hands come up to cup the dancer’s waist before he can stop himself. The dancer moves away to keep out of reach, winking at Steve like he knows what his scent is doing to him, and then he’s gone completely, dancing with Natasha some more. 

Steve looks at the ceiling as his frantic brain tries to make sense of what he just smelled. It’s not something that happened to him before. Which is unsurprising, because this tends to happen just once in a lifetime, if it happens at all. But his brain is as sure of this as he’s sure the earth is round.

_ Mate _ , his Alpha brain whispers.  _ Matemateminemate _ .

It can’t be possible. It just can’t be. But his instinct tells him it’s true and he’s chaotically wondering how the hell he’s doing to deal with this when suddenly the dancer is back as the music reaches a climax. 

The Asset, who is absolutely omega, lets himself fall over Steve when the lights go out completely and the music stops, the only sound in the room the cheering of the crowd. 

He can’t see in the sudden dark but the omega’s body is lying fully on his, face buried in Steve’s neck. He’s holding his collar away from his skin so that more of his scent leaks out and Steve can’t help but inhale deeply, knees coming up to cradle the omega’s hips and arms wrapping around his back to keep him close. In the next moment, the omega presses his lips to Steve’s, the kiss instantly, instinctually deepening. 

It’s over in a flash and the omega is gone at the same moment the lights come up. Steve stares up at him, dazed, and he can tell their brief encounter hasn’t left the omega unmoved either. His lips are reddened from their quick kiss, his pupils blown. Steve’s sure he’s not doing much better. 

He’s trying to find a way to get alone with this dancer,  _ his mate _ , when the emcee walks back on the stage and the red-haired dancer lends him a hand to pull him back to his feet. The omega is already gone from the stage, and it takes an immense amount of will power for Steve not to stalk after him and stake his claim. 

Mates after all, always are mutual. So the omega must have realized this, too.

Steve stumbles back to his seat, ignoring Brock’s low whistle. He drinks the last of his beer, looking at the side of the stage where the omega disappeared. The audience’s applause lingers as the show is over, voices calling out for more. 

Clint gets up to use the restroom and Brock has disappeared to the bar where the red-haired dancer is now getting a drink. 

“That was… something,” Sam offers once they’re alone. 

“You can say that again,” Steve huffs. He shifts in his seat, willing his erection to go down. His shoulders are tense, muscles puffed up in a display of dominance. Same notices and keeps his distance, his posture open and relaxed. 

His Alpha hindbrain is  _ screaming _ at him to follow that dancer into the catacombs behind the stage, but he knows he’ll be kicked out before he even gets near the door. He can only hope that the dancer has come to the same conclusion and will come out for him. 

Steve  _ will _ wait at the back exit until he comes out if he doesn’t see him beforehand, that’s for sure. There is no way he is going home without him tonight. 

He drags a hand through his too long hair and scrubs his beard. He can smell his own pheromones, for crying out loud. He must be stinking up the place. He glances at Sam, who raises his brows in a very Sam-like way, then looks down in a gesture of submission. He’s not going to challenge Steve like this, and Steve’s grateful for that.

Goddammit, where  _ is  _ his omega?

He’s craning his neck to see if he can glance down the side exit of the stage, but then suddenly Brock steps into his line of vision. 

“Since you seemed to enjoy yourself up there, I bought you a lap dance from the redhead,” he says. “Booth number 3, I’ve been told.”

“Not interested,” Steve grunts. He shifts to the side so he can look past Brock. 

“C’mon Steve, just let go a little. I know you haven’t gotten laid in months. I’m sure she’s up for more if you ask nicely.” 

The only reason Steve gives in is because he hopes that the private booths in the back will give him a way to sneak behind the stage and find his omega. He gets up sullenly and stalks off. 

“You can thank me later!” Brock calls after him. 

Steve tries the door that he thinks leads backstage, but finds it locked. He turns back to the booth and sits down, fuming, brooding. He’s willing to break down that door but the two brain cells that are still capable of logical thought tell him that might not be a good idea. 

The best way to go, probably, is to wait for the red-haired dancer, decline her dance and ask her about the omega he met on the stage. 

He’s alarmed when, suddenly, the overhead light goes out, leaving him in shadows. He tenses, getting ready to get up and leave, when he senses a presence sliding into the booth with him. It’s not difficult to know who it is - the scent steamrolls over him and leaves him breathless. It’s dark chocolate and cinnamon spice combined, and it’s absolutely fucking glorious.

The omega slides onto his lap and then the music starts and the lights come on, the red glow making the omega’s cheekbones stand out. Steve’s eyes dart to his neck to see the omega has removed the collar. 

Oh happy day.

The omega leans in, hiding his deep inhale of Steve’s scent in a sensuous move. “We’re being watched,” he whispers lowly so as not to be heard above the music. “If you move your hands from where I place them, I lose my job and you lose some teeth. Understood?”

“Yes,” Steave breathes. 

He wants to say more but the omega has moved back again, turning his back to Steve and moving sensuously to the slow beat of the music. He’s still wearing the tac pants and the sleeves. His hair is shorter in the back and Seve’s mouth waters when the omega tilts his chin down, baring his neck to Steve’s gaze. 

He moves backward, sitting on Steve’s lap leaning back against Steve’s chest. He takes Steve’s hands and laces their fingers together as he drags Steve’s palms down his chest. The omega’s nipples go tight under his touch - Steve’s definitely noticing it this time. The omega tilts his head, baring his neck in a submissive gesture so sweet Steve  _ hopes _ it’s for him and not a normal part of his act. He doesn’t even hide the fact that he’s taking deep breaths of the omega’s scent. He seems to expand inside his own skin at the smell and he wants to roll around in it and stay there forever.

He wants to bite down and claim, but he refrains.

Barely. 

He’s not quite sure from where they’re being watched, but he pitches his voice low and keeps his mouth of sight as he speaks. “What’s your name?”

The omega arches his back, rubbing against Steve’s chest in the most erotic way and then he’s away again, dipping down while keeping his knees spread and coming up ass first. Steve swallows and has to shove his hands under his thighs to make sure he doesn’t grab at the dancer like he so desperately wants to. 

His own scent is coming off him in droves, a warning for others as much as it is an invitation for his mate to come closer. He knows the omega must smell it on him, can see it in the measured breaths the dancer takes. 

The dancer walks behind Steve and leans in, hands pushing down his chest. Steve surges into the movement, unable to stop himself. “Bucky,” the dancer whispers, so softly Steve’s not even sure he heard it right. 

Bucky comes back to the front and kneels before Steve, pushing his thighs wide so he can crawl in between them. Steve clenches his teeth, forcing himself to stay still and not claim what he’s being offered so blatantly. 

His hand moves of his own volition though, ignoring the warning he’s been given. Bucky’s eyes flit over to his palm and he grabs Steve’s wrist, guiding his fingers into the omega’s soft, silken hair, masking Steve’s mistake. Steve cups Bucky’s head like it’s something precious, and, well, it is. 

His jeans are uncomfortably tight, his erection burning at his zipper. Bucky leans in close and moves his face over Steve’s crotch, barely an inch away from touching. He’s definitely scenting Steve. Steve’s grip tightens in Bucky’s hair, wishing for all the world they were alone right now and there were no clothes between them. 

Bucky climbs back up, still keeping to the slow beat of the music and he straddles Steve’s lap, placing Steve’s hands on his hips. He squeezes firmly, warning him to keep his hands there, and then he starts moving his upper body in sensuous waves, making his muscles ripple under his skin. He’s panting now, taking deep gulps of Steve-scented air. Steve’s not better off, chest expanding with every breath he takes. 

He sneakily moves his hands so that his thumbs are outstretched, rubbing into the crease of Bucky’s thighs. It’s just as erotic as Bucky’s sensual movements and Bucky’s breath shudders as he leans in close again, leaning his forearms on Steve’s shoulders so he can push to his feet over Steve’s legs and move his hips. 

“Come home with me,” Steve breathes. “Please.”

“Yes,” Bucky whispers back. “Back exit, ten minutes.”

He leans back and grins at Steve, his eyes sparkling and Steve knows this genuine smile is not part of the act. Bucky gets up, kisses Steve’s cheek and saunters away, blowing him a kiss over his shoulder as he exits the booth. 

Steve needs a few moments to let his racing heart settle. He glances down at his lap and gingerly readjusts himself. He’s going to have to accept that his dick isn’t going to go down anytime soon. He’s lucky his knot hasn’t popped yet. His entire body is geared up for a mating. 

He gets up as soon as he has directed some blood back from his cock into his legs. 

Brock whoops when Steve comes back in sight, a wide grin ons his face. 

“You look thoroughly ruffled,” he says, obviously hoping for some details. 

“I’m leaving,” Steve says curtly. He ignores the way all three of his team respond to his scent. “I’m not coming in tomorrow.” 

“No, man, it’s my day off,” Brock protests. “I’m not coming in so you can get laid.” 

“Then stay home for all I care,” Steve snaps. He can’t fucking deal with another Alpha right now. He turns and stalks off, pushing through the now dancing crowd and out the front door. 

The bouncer makes some sort of remark on his scent, but Steve doesn’t care. He walks around the building, scanning the wall for the alley that will contain the back exit. Bucky’s not there when he finds it, and Steve forces himself to take even breaths, calm his shit down. 

He’s always prided himself on being levelheaded, not led by his hindbrain, but right now his instincts are on fire and they demand to be followed. Steve’s going to fuck Bucky in this goddamned alley if he doesn’t manage to get himself together. 

And then the reinforced door swings open and out steps Bucky, in gray sweats and a wife beater, looking positively edible. His eyes latch on to Steve’s immediately and he drops his backpack without looking where it ends up, letting himself all but fall into Steve’s embrace. 

There is little finesse to their kiss, both of them simply trying to get as much of the other’s taste into their mouths as possible. Steve presses his tongue in deep while Bucky slots his body against Steve’s so that they’re touching shoulder to knee. When Steve lifts him up off the ground, Bucky wraps his legs around Steve’s waist easy as pie, letting himself be held while they kiss like they’re drowning. 

Bucky’s scent is overwhelming up close and Steve takes gulping breaths. He can hold Bucky up easily with his Alpha strength, and if he’s gripping too tightly in his desperation to get closer, Bucky doesn’t let on. 

It’s only when they’re both panting, Bucky’s erection pushing against Steve’s belly through the loose sweats, that the omega finally pulls back to look Steve in the eye. 

“Hi,” he says. His smile is blinding. 

Goosebumps race down Steve’s spine just at the sound of Bucky’s voice. “Hi.”

Bucky’s smile widens, a toothy grin that squeezes his eyes. “I think you’re my mate.”

“I think so too.” 

Bucky leans in to kiss Steve some more and Steve obliges happily, nipping on Bucky’s lower lip before he dives back in. He groans quietly at the omega’s taste. His cock is going to be bruised it’s pressing against his fly so hard. 

Steve trails wet kisses along Bucky’s cheek, down his jawline and to his neck. Bucky tilts his head so sweetly, making space so that Steve can nuzzle at his gland, take in that glorious scent right at the source. He growls as his tongue darts out for a taste, his grip tightening so hard that Bucky makes a sound. Steve wants to bite down and claim, but not here, not now. Not in this filthy alley with other Alpha’s scents still vaguely clinging to Bucky’s hair and skin. 

“Take me home,” Bucky breathes in his ear. “Please?” 

How can Steve resist a request when it’s asked so sweetly? 

“Yes,” Steve growls. He lets Bucky go, reluctantly, and picks up his bag from the floor. “Do you need to pick up stuff from your place first?”

Bucky shakes his head. “You have a spare toothbrush, right?” 

Steve nods, kisses Bucky again in case he’s forgotten what Bucky tastes like in the last 10 seconds, and threads his fingers through the omega’s. “Come on,” he says. “let’s go home.”

  
  
  



	2. 2. Main act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Before we-” Bucky says, halting when Steve bites down on his neck, teasing. A bitten off whimper escapes him. “You need to know something.” 
> 
> The urgency that leaks through Bucky’s voice is enough to make Steve pull back and meet his gaze. 
> 
> Bucky’s eyes are blown, the grey of his irises eaten up by his pupils. His bottom lip is wet and reddened from their kissing and Steve can’t help it, he leans back in to kiss it some more. Bucky’s fingers thread into the hair at Steve’s nape, tugging slightly to get his attention. 
> 
> “Yeah,” Steve says, finally pulling back. He keeps Bucky close though, feeling the warmth of the omega’s body through their thin shirts. “You were saying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your response has been amazing! You're awesome :D I hope you had happy and healthy holidays.
> 
> Thanks to Flippedfic for cheering me on. This story isn't beta'ed, so any mistakes are mine. The tags have been updated. Let me know if I missed some.
> 
> Get ready for the main course... here be smut ;)

It’s a three block walk back to the fire station where Steve’s motorbike is parked, but with the many breaks they need to kiss and breathe each other in it takes them twice as long to get there. By the time they do, both their lips are swollen and Bucky’s chin and cheeks are red from beard burn. 

“I have an extra helmet in my locker,” Steve says. “You want to come inside?”

Bucky looks up and finally realizes what building they’re standing in front of. “A firefighter, huh?” 

Steve smiles. “Yeah, until I’m done with school.”

“And then...?”

“Then I’ll be a fire investigator and I’ll come in after the flames go out.” 

Bucky’s brows climb up his forehead and he whistles. “That’s impressive.” 

Steve grins and leans in to kiss Bucky’s sinful lips. “Not really. Come on.” He takes Bucky’s hand and draws him into the building. It’s quiet; the night crew are probably out for a job, and they walk into the locker room unnoticed. Steve gets both helmets and his jacket out of his locker and they slip outside again, walking to the back of the building where Steve’s bike is parked. 

He puts his own - good - helmet over Bucky’s head, taking care to push Bucky’s hair out of his eyes. Bucky is just looking at Steve, letting himself be fussed over. His lips are parted as he breathes, his eyes glittering in the night. 

“You ever been on the back of a motorbike before?” Steve murmurs as he adjusts the strap. He helps Bucky put on his protective jacket. It’s big on the omega and Steve’s scent spikes at seeing Bucky in the Alpha’s clothes. 

Bucky shakes his head.

“Okay. Keep your feet on the steps. Move with me in the corners, don’t shift your weight. Hold on to me if you want to. That’s all. I think I can hold us both if we have to stop at traffic lights.”

Bucky nods and watches as Steve puts on the second helmet. “No jacket?” Bucky asks.

“You’re wearing it,” Steve explains. He mounts his bike and gets it going. Bucky climbs on behind him, a tense line of heat against his back. Steve looks over his shoulder at his omega and smiles. “C’mon. Let’s go home.”

Having Bucky so close to him is enough to tempt an angel, Steve thinks as they drive down the quiet streets to his place. Bucky’s pressed up tightly against him, face as close to Steve’s neck as their helmets allow. Bucky has relaxed gradually during their drive, his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist and holding himself close. 

They don’t talk apart from Steve checking in with Bucky at the red lights to see if he’s still doing okay. When they finally arrive at Steve’s apartment building and they’ve gotten off the bike, the electricity between them spikes. 

“Those vibrations are… interesting,” Bucky muses as Steve parks his bike and turns back to Bucky to take off his helmet. 

Steve grins. “You get used to it.” 

The Alpha leads the way up the two flights of stairs to his apartment. They could use the elevator but Steve needs to burn some of the fire in his veins before he explodes. Bucky’s right on his heels, his breath not even coming faster when they get to the right floor. While Steve unlocks his door, Bucky pulls out his phone to send off a quick message. 

“Just to Nat,” he explains, holding up his phone. It’s a location indicator in whatsapp. “So she knows where I am.”

“Good,” Steve says. “Safety is good.” He’s not even offended that Bucky is sharing his location with a trusted friend. He knows he won’t hurt Bucky, and Bucky probably knows it too, but there’s real assholes out there and Steve likes how Bucky is being careful.

Bucky grins back at him. The moment the door is open, Bucky is suddenly all over Steve, dragging him inside and pushing the door shut with Steve against it. He crowds into Steve’s space, kissing him without much finesse, just to taste and get as close as possible. 

Steve hums, pleased, and pulls Bucky closer against him. He cradles the back of Bucky’s head to keep him close and opens his mouth to let Bucky lick into it. When his hand shifts to grasp the back of Bucky’s neck, the omega lets out a whimper that travels straight down Steve’s spine. 

Steve pushes his own jacket off Bucky’s shoulders along with his backpack and lets it fall to the floor. He’s probably using too much strength to pull Bucky’s body against his but he doesn’t care. Bucky’s scent is overwhelming, dark chocolate and cinnamon spice, and Steve licks at Bucky’s gland to coax more pheromones out. 

“Before we-” Bucky says, halting when Steve bites down on his neck, teasing. A bitten off whimper escapes him. “You need to know something.” 

The urgency that leaks through Bucky’s voice is enough to make Steve pull back and meet his gaze. 

Bucky’s eyes are blown, the grey of his irises eaten up by his pupils. His bottom lip is wet and reddened from their kissing and Steve can’t help it, he leans back in to kiss it some more. Bucky smiles into his mouth, letting out a soft purr as Steve’s scent changes, blooming into something protective and safe. Bucky’s fingers thread into the hair at Steve’s nape, tugging slightly to get his attention. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, finally pulling back. He keeps Bucky close though, feeling the warmth of the omega’s body through their thin shirts. “You were saying.” 

Bucky looks suddenly shy and he breaks eye contact, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he thinks. 

Steve tilts his head and tilts Bucky’s chin up with a fingertip. “Bucky?”

“I… I kinda have never done this before?”

Steve blinks. “What?”

“I’m a virgin,” Bucky blurts. “I only ever kissed.” 

Steeve freezes for a moment, studying Bucky’s gaze. He can smell the omega is being honest with him, a shy bashfulness overtaking his scent. The idea of Bucky never having been touched like that by someone else drives Steve absolutely wild and he growls, twisting with Bucky in his arms so that the omega is the one being crowded against the door. 

Steve takes Bucky’s hands and lifts them above his head, holding the omega’s wrists up against the door in one big hand. Bucky takes a shivering breath, looking up at Steve with innocent, trusting eyes. Steve presses his leg in between Bucky’s thighs, putting pressure against Bucky’s groin. The omega is already hard, straining against the sweats that do nothing to hide his erection. 

Bucky undulates against Steve, letting himself be held and kissed, and bares his neck so Steve can reach his scent glands. Steve’s scent intensifies at the obvious show of trust and he wonders if the omega has ever done this for someone before and if he even knows what it means. Bucky’s scent subtly changes, an undercurrent of musk starting to unfold, marking his arousal. 

At least with their biology, Steve can make sure they’re on the same page the whole time. He’ll smell it the moment Bucky’s mood changes.

“You sure you want this, then?” he checks. “Might be hard to make a clear-headed decision with your pheromones wreaking havoc.” 

“I want,” Bucky says. He bites his lip and looks up at Steve, big eyes that would be innocent if his pupils weren’t completely blown from arousal. 

“If at any point you change your mind,” Steve breathes, trailing kisses down Bucky’s throat, “you tell me, okay? And I’ll stop.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky replies quickly. “Don’t stop now though.” 

Steve grins. “Wasn’t planning to.” 

He uses his free hand to ruck up the tank top Bucky is wearing, exposing the chest he’s already seen up close in the club. But now, he gets to  _ really _ touch. He lets go of Bucky’s hands to pull the top off over his head and lets his eyes rove over Bucky’s torso. The omega is leanly muscled, with defined abs and somewhat broad shoulders. The softness that lingers at his jaw and just above his waistband betrays his young age - Steve wagers Bucky can’t be much older than 24. 

Steve leans in to kiss down Bucky’s throat again, ducking his head so he can kiss those pecs and tease at a nipple with his tongue. Steve can taste the sweat on Bucky’s skin, and he can’t get enough of it. Bucky groans, hands coming up to Steve’s shoulders to hold him close. 

“I want to shower,” Bucky says. He’s breathing fast, his abs working with it. Steve trails his fingertips down his muscles, teasing at the waistband of Bucky’s sweats. “I have the scents of other people still on me and I cannot tell you how much I don’t want that.” 

Steve cocks his head, scenting. He’s been studiously filtering out those strange scents so that all he could smell was Bucky, but now that Bucky mentions it, the urgent need arises in Steve to wash his omega clean of all strange smells. 

He takes Bucky’s hand and leads him further into his apartment, to his bathroom. He doesn’t own a tub, never saw any reason to, but he wishes he had one now. He has a spacious shower though, and he reaches to turn on the faucet before he turns back to Bucky, pulling him close to kiss some more.

“I want to make this good for you,” Steve murmurs into his mouth. “So if at any point you’re uncomfortable, you let me know, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes. “You said. I’m so glad it’s you though.” 

“I’m glad to be your first,” Steve admits, his voice a low growl. “Can I undress you? Okay if I join you in the shower?”

Bucky nods, not breaking their kiss, and he starts pulling at Steve’s shirt the moment Steve unties Bucky’s sweats. In a movement so fluid it might as well have been choreographed, Bucky pulls Steve’s shirt off as Steve kneels so he can push Bucky’s sweats and underwear down. He helps the omega keep his balance as he steps out of his untied boots and his pants, and then Bucky is naked before him. 

Steve lets his eyes wander, hungry gaze roving over the other man’s perfect form. His shoulders are broad. A faint, jagged scar curves down his left shoulder. His thighs show his strength, powerfully muscled under elegant hips. In between, in a subtle patch of curls, his cock is erect, clear fluid already beading at the tip. 

Steve kisses Bucky’s thigh and gets back up. Had Bucky been more experienced, Steve would’ve gone down on him right here, right now. But Bucky is new to all of this, and while his eyes are blown and his cheeks are ruddy with arousal, there’s also the faintest trail of anxiety creeping into his scent. 

“We’ll take it slow,” Steve promises him. 

Bucky huffs. “Fuck slow,” he grits. “I want you. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.”

Steve laughs at that. “Mating pheromones will do that. But we have all night. And tomorrow. And the day after that…” He leans in to suck at Bucky’s scent gland, hands roving over Bucky’s back as he pulls him close, skin to skin, and the omega whimpers so sweetly Steve’s cock jumps in his jeans. 

Steam starts filling the bathroom. Bucky’s hands roam all over Steve’s chest and back, short nails scratching gently over his skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. When Bucky gingerly touches the button of Steve’s jeans, Steve hums his consent. Bucky seems at ease, not body shy in all his naked glory even though this is apparently his first time. 

Considering he dances nearly naked for a living, it’s no surprise. 

Steve licks his lips as Bucky undoes Steve’s jeans, the buttons slipping open easily. He slides his hands inside Steve’s boxer briefs over his hips and pushes them down with the jeans, his touch almost reverent. Steve watches, rapt, as Bucky visibly steels himself to look down at Steve’s hard cock. When he looks back up at Steve, he looks so alarmed that Steve bursts out laughing. He toes off his boots and shoves his pants down, then kicks them out of the way. “Slow,” he says again.

He leans back in to kiss Bucky some more, his body begging for another taste. Bucky opens up so sweetly for him, letting Steve in and take what he needs. Their scents intensify in the warming air around them, the pheromones mingling and creating a heady atmosphere. Bucky presses his chest to Steve’s and groans when his nipples brush along Steve’s chest hair. Bucky’s all bare, it fits the aesthetic of his profession. Still, Steve wonders how much hair grows naturally on Bucky’s body and what he would look like if he didn’t wax. 

“Come on,” he says lowly. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

The look Bucky gives him in response is heated, filled with anticipation. His lips are kiss reddened and swollen, his mouth slightly parted as he lets Steve draw him into the shower stall. 

The water is hot, just like Steve prefers, but the Alpha checks with Bucky if it’s not too warm. Bucky just slips underneath the spray with a soft hum, his hair flattening back as he lets the water hit his face. In here, his scent is even thicker and Steve can’t help himself, crowds in close to Bucky and cages him in against the shower wall. 

Bucky hisses as his back hits the cold tiles and he arches away, pressing his water slick body against Steve’s. 

Steve leans in for a kiss and drags his hands down the miles of Bucky’s skin, feeling the muscles work as he tenses and relaxes under Steve’s touch. Steve presses close, slotting his own erect cock right next to the omega’s slightly smaller one. Bucky jolts at the touch, letting out a shocked groan. His scent changes, the subtle hints of his slick starting to leak through.

He’s so innocent, Steve thinks. This really is all new to him. It fills him with a fierce protectiveness, the burning desire to make this  _ good _ for Bucky all encompassing and taking over his thoughts. 

“Can I touch you?” he asks in between kisses. 

“Wasn’t that obvious?” Bucky counters. 

Steve grins and pulls back enough to make eye contact. “Never hurts to check.” 

Bucky bites his lip, and it’s so fucking sexy that Steve growls at the sight. It makes Bucky’s eyes light up with a mischievous sparkle, and with the way his lips curl up in a smile Steve suddenly sees how Bucky knows to use his features to his advantage. 

“Answer me,” Steve growls. 

“Yes, fucking yes,” Bucky says. His last word isn’t more than an exhale as Steve has already dived in, stamping open mouthed kisses down his jaw and finding his scent gland with uncanny precision, sucking on it to get the heady taste on his tongue. 

Steve’s hands travel down over Bucky’s chest, cupping his gorgeous pecs and teasing a thumb over his nipples. 

“You can touch me too,” Steve murmurs in between sucking kisses down Bucky’s neck. “Anything, everywhere.”

Bucky responds beautifully, hands coming up to scratch down Steve’s back, pulling him close as the water beats down on them. Steve cups Bucky’s ribs and lets his hands glide down, down, until he can finally cup Bucky’s cock. 

It’s rock solid under his touch, with a gentle upward curve and the head a shade darker than the rest. Bucky’s carefully groomed, which shouldn’t be so hot but Steve’s mouth is already watering at the prospect of having his tongue explore that part of the omega’s body. 

Bucky’s response is immediate, body bucking up into Steve’s touch. With the way Steve is still nuzzling Bucky’s neck, Bucky’s ecstatic groan goes right into Steve’s ear, filling him with pride. The scent of slick is growing stronger in the air, and Steve imagines it starting to spill down Bucky’s thighs. 

_ Mine _ , Steve thinks. 

“Yours,” Bucky replies. “S-Steve…”

“I’ve got you,” Steve croons soothingly. “Let me wash you.”

He lets go of Bucky to get the soap, and Bucky lets out a bitten off whimper at the loss of touch. 

Steve chuckles quietly and lathers up his hands. He could use a rag, but he wants to touch Bucky as much as possible, no barriers between. Bucky lets his eyes fall closed and stands still, mouth open slightly with that sinful downward curve on full display and head tilted back as he lets Steve wash him, soaping up every inch of his body and washing off the night’s scents and sweat. 

The way he shows his throat to Steve makes the Alpha nearly lightheaded. Bucky really has no idea what that gesture does to others, Steve thinks. Steve washes the hollows under Bucky’s ears with gentle fingertips, soaping away the traces of leather scent the collar left behind. He’s careful around the scar on Bucky’s shoulder, not sure if any pain still lingers there.

“You like being groomed?” Steve asks as he turns Bucky away from him so he can soap down his back, thumbs digging into the muscles along his spine. 

Bucky groans pleasantly before he speaks. “Apparently. Please don’t stop.” 

“You never had someone do this before?” Steve asks. He’s down to Bucky’s lower back now, moving lower to cup those gorgeous butt cheeks which are strong and rounded from his extensive dance training. 

Bucky widens his stance, almost subconsciously it seems, to give Steve more space to work. “No,” he murmurs. He leans back against Steve, letting his head rest on Steve’s shoulder and then turning his face so he can press a kiss to Steve’s neck. “’s Nice.” 

Steve chuckles darkly and makes sure Bucky is good to stand on his own when he kneels down to wash Bucky’s strong thighs and his lower legs. He even lifts up each foot so he can carefully clean the soles. When he looks up, Bucky is watching on over his shoulder, mesmerized, eyes darkened in clear arousal. His cock is still standing up proudly, begging for attention, and Steve finally takes pity on Bucky for being so patient. Getting back up, he pulls Bucky back against his chest, coaxing him to lean against the bigger man. With soapy hands, Steve travels down Bucky’s torso until he’s at his cock, and this time his fingers wrap around it to give it a firm tug. 

Bucky lets out a punched-out sound, hips bucking up helplessly into Steve’s touch. Steve jerks him careful and slow, his left hand fondling the omega’s balls the way he likes it done on himself. Bucky’s moans turn into helpless whimpers, hands gripping at Steve’s arm, his hip, anywhere he can reach. His legs are shaking.

The way he just gives himself over to Steve makes the Alpha nearly feral with possessiveness and pride, and the air around them thickens even more with Alpha pheromones. The omega is so trusting in his arms, clearly unafraid to be overwhelmed. And even though it’s all new to him, he’s happy to let it happen, it seems. His scent is full of arousal, and the anxious note to it has disappeared with the water down the drain.

Steve works him over, his other hand coming up to toy with a nipple, and he bites down on Bucky’s jugular, soothing the sting with his tongue. The scent of Bucky’s slick is heavy in the air around them, exacerbated by the steam of the shower.

“I’m gonna come if you keep that up,” Bucky warns, breathless.

“Good,” Steve rumbles into Bucky’s ear. He nips at the lobe. “Get the edge off.” 

“You have a lot of faith in my refractory period,” Bucky retorts, but there’s no heat in it.

Steve laughs darkly at that. “Mating pheromones. We’re fine, baby.” 

The endearment clearly has an effect on Bucky, as he shudders in Steve’s embrace and presses closer, moaning when Steve presses his own erection up between Bucky’s ass cheeks as a promise of what’s to come. The path is guided by Bucky’s slick that’s spilling out to his thighs. 

Steve thrusts a few times, needing to relieve some of the pressure on his own aching erection, before he focuses back on Bucky. He toys with the foreskin of the omega’s cock and uses his other hand to find a way between their bodies so that he can brush a fingertip over Bucky’s hole. 

Bucky keens, body locking up in sudden tension. It pushes his erection harder into Steve’s fist and Bucky pulls back in reaction, pressing himself closer to Steve’s finger touching his back entrance. 

“Fuck!” he breathes. 

“Too much?” Steve asks. He’s not moving either hand, waiting for Bucky to speak, give him the go ahead. 

“Shit,” Bucky replies, eloquently. 

Steve grins into Bucky’s neck and presses a kiss there. “Slow?”

“Yeah,” Bucky relents. “Yeah.”

Steve doesn’t say ‘I told you so.’ Being touched by your mate is incredibly intense, especially the first time, and he wants this experience for Bucky to be as good as possible. So he moves slowly, fisting Bucky’s cock with intent until the omega is letting out tiny, breathless moans, head rolling on Steve’s shoulder and breath coming out raggedly. 

It’s only when the tense lines bleed out of Bucky’s back that Steve moves along, once more brushing his finger over the hidden furl of muscle between Bucky’s cheeks. It’s so slick, the silky texture thicker than water and hot as sin. Bucky groans loudly, body tensing up momentarily but relaxing in the next instant. Steve massages Bucky’s entrance, letting Bucky get used to the touch. It’s a heady feeling, being able to touch his mate in this intimate way and seeing him respond to it so beautifully. 

Bucky turns his head, asking for a kiss, and Steve delivers, using the moment Bucky is distracted to push a fingertip into Bucky’s welcoming body. It all but sucks him in, hot and tight, and Steve shudders at the feeling. Bucky tenses suddenly, breaking the kiss to let out a shout as he comes, body convulsing as ropes of come stream down Steve’s hand and wash down the shower drain. 

Steve guides Bucky through the aftershocks, letting him go as gently as possible when Bucky lets out a sigh, signaling he’s done. 

“Beautiful,” Steve whispers. “Absolutely beautiful.” 

Bucky lets out a breathless laugh and turns around in Steve’s embrace, leaning against the Alpha and breathing him in as he catches his breath. Sloppy hands roam over Steve’s shoulders and back. When he finally pulls back he looks a little dazed, pupils blown and lips reddened. His color is high on his cheeks and the smell of his arousal and happiness are heavy in the air.

Steve’s no better off, he knows. His own scent is coming off him in droves, mixing with Bucky’s and filling every breath. 

“My turn,” Bucky says. His voice is rough but he manages to get the shower gel and work up a foam over Steve’s chest. He massages Steve’s pecs, obviously enjoying the feel of the Alpha’s muscles. “Goddamn your tits,” he muses. 

Steve chuckles at that and pushes out, posturing just a little to make his muscles stand out even more. He’s already swollen, mating pheromones making his body puff up and show off his strength. Bucky smiles and bites his lip at Steve’s reaction and moves his hands up to scratch at Steve’s nape, even making sure to wash behind Steve’s ears. 

Steve lets himself be doted on, Alpha instincts purring at having an omega fussing over him like this. His cock is rock hard, pointing at where it wants to be, and Steve lets out a guttural moan when it brushes against Bucky’s body. 

“Let me take care of you,” Bucky says, hands traveling down to wrap around Steve’s cock. 

Steve stops him with a gentle grip. “No, sweetheart. I’ll combust.” 

“So?” Bucky sasses. He lets go, but stays close. “That’s the point.” 

Steve kisses him, then sucks down a path along his jaw until he can latch on to the scent gland below his ear. “Wanna be inside you when I do,” he growls low. 

Bucky groans, pressing his hips against Steve’s. “Lemme wash my hair real quick. Need to get the smells out.”

“I’ll help,” Steve replies, and proceeds to be absolutely no help at all by groping Bucky anywhere he can reach, distracting him as much as possible and making him laugh while he tries to rinse out his hair without getting soap in his eyes. 

“You little shit,” Bucky says once the shampoo is gone and he can see again. 

“Never said I wasn’t,” Steve counters easily, pulling Bucky in to kiss him again, slow and languid. It changes the atmosphere between them immediately, growing heavy with heated anticipation. 

Steve shuts off the water and wraps a towel around his hips before he wraps one around Bucky’s shoulders, taking care to dry him off. Bucky’s arousal is starting to grow again, and his lips part when Steve makes sure all nooks and crevices are dry. 

He gives himself a cursory rub down to get the majority of the water off his own skin and then he takes Bucky’s hands to take him to bed. Bucky lets himself be guided easily, allows Steve to turn him around so he can fall backwards on Steve’s rumpled sheets. Steve falls right in with him, catching his weight on his elbows so as not to crush Bucky. 

Bucky wraps his limbs around him, and when their bodies align, they both gasp. Bucky gropes at Steve’s back, pulling him impossibly closer. Steve rubs his hard cock against Bucky’s, letting out a pleased growl when he feels the omega’s dick already fattening up again. 

“You weren’t lying about the refractory period,” Bucky gasps. “Jesus.”

Steve just hums and moves down Bucky’s body, stamping kisses over his breastbone and latching on to a nipple. Bucky jolts underneath him, back arching when Steve uses teeth and tongue to torment him. By the time he reaches Bucky’s groin, the omega’s cock is well on the way to full hardness. 

Steve reaches over to his nightstand to pull out some condoms and a dental dam. 

“Wh-,” Bucky protests. “I’m clean.”

“So am I,’ Steve says, “but we’re still getting tested. Until then, we’re playing it safe.” 

“Why is this arousing,” Bucky grumbles, but there’s no venom in it. 

Steve laughs. “I want to suck you. That okay?”

Bucky nods wordlessly. Steve puts the rubber on his cock, teasing him by being thorough about it, and then licks up the shaft. 

Bucky stutters out a moan, hips bucking up helplessly.

“Ready?” Steve checks. 

“Yeah,” is the only reply Steve needs before he opens his mouth and takes Bucky in, ignoring the taste of latex and enjoying the feel of Bucky’s cock on his tongue. He holds Bucky’s hips down effortlessly with his forearm, allowing Bucky to thrash underneath his grip. His free hand comes up to brush over Bucky’s hole, teasing at the slick that’s trickling out. 

Bucky lets out a shout, hands fisting Steve’s hair and keeping him close. His hips are working continuously, abs rippling as he writhes under Steve’s ministrations. “Steve,” he breathes. “Alpha…” 

Steve growls at that, the vibrations traveling down Bucky’s cock. This close, Bucky’s scent is overwhelming, cinnamon spice and honey sweet, and Steve takes deep breaths, needing that scent to find a home inside his veins. The omega’s cock fits into his mouth easily and he bobs up and down, swallowing around the head when his nose touches Bucky’s groomed pubic hair. He pushes at Bucky’s entrance, carefully testing the waters, and at Bucky’s whispered but wholehearted “god, yes, please,” Steve pushes a fingertip inside. 

He’s so tight, Steve nearly comes on the spot. Steve fingers Bucky slowly, the path guided by the omega’s slick. “Relax,” Steve murmurs against the vee of Bucky’s hip. “I won’t hurt you.” He wriggles his finger, making Bucky laugh and groan at the same time, and it helps - the omega loses some of the tension he was still holding. 

Bucky’s breath stutters when Steve adds another finger, spreading them to help him relax. 

“You’re so tight,” Steve murmurs, in awe. He sucks kisses all down Bucky’s cock. “Can’t wait to eat you out.”

“Do it,” Bucky says, breathless. “Please? Wanna know what it feels like.” 

He only has to ask once. 

It takes little effort to push Bucky’s legs up, folding him nearly in half. A small part of Steve’s brain marvels at how flexible Bucky’s body is, but then he’s wholly focused on the way Bucky’s spread open for him. Bucky flushes and squirms, but doesn’t try to lower his legs.

“Beautiful,” Steve whispers. Then he forces his gaze away to focus on putting the dental dam in place so he can put his tongue to that secret spot. 

Bucky lets out a languid moan, his head falling back against the pillow as Steve licks into him. It’s not the same as skin on skin, but the dam is thin enough for Steve to feel every little detail under his tongue. His Alpha instinct is screaming at him to get his omega’s taste in his mouth, but he’s not going to risk it even though Bucky says he’s a virgin. 

“Still good?” he asks between licks. 

“So good,” Bucky agrees. He cries out, body bowing off the bed when Steve seals his mouth over Bucky’s hole and sucks. “ _ Jesus _ , oh…” 

Steve preens at hearing his omega’s obvious signs of pleasure. After a lingering, final lick he takes the dam away and slides two fingers back inside. Even more slick is guiding the way, Bucky’s body taking his fingers easily now. Steve crooks them, searching, and knows he’s hit the target when Bucky lets out a sob. 

Bucky’s gripping at the sheets, his cock so hard that Steve can see he’s close to coming even through the condom. He guides Bucky back from that edge with slow movements and takes his time until he’s confident Bucky is relaxed and opened up enough so that he can take Steve without any discomfort. 

He pulls out gently, wiping his fingers on the sheets and rolling a condom on himself. Then he crawls back up over Bucky, boxing him in with his limbs. 

“Hi,” he says, nuzzling Bucky. 

“Hi,” Bucky replies. His eyes are dazed, the redness on his cheeks traveling down his throat and chest. He tilts his chin up for a kiss, and Steve is not about to deny him.

“You good?” Steve checks when he pulls back again. 

Bucky nods, a coy smile gracing his sinful lips. He hitches up his legs to draw Steve closer. “C’mon.” 

Steve smiles, a little fond and a lot turned on. Bucky’s pupils are blown. His temples are shiny from perspiration, his hair drying up curly from their shower, and Steve knows he’s no better off himself. He pulls back off Bucky, who makes a disappointed sound in protest. 

“Turn over,” he coaxes. 

Bucky frowns. “No, I don’t want to present.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Steve says, filing that tidbit of information away for later. “Turn to your left side. It’s easier that way the first time.”

“But I want to see you.” 

Steve leans back in and kisses Bucky until the lines of his body are relaxed again and his scent is back to pure arousal. “You’ll see me. Let’s start like this though. Trust me.” 

Bucky looks a little doubtful but he lets himself be moved. Steve marvels at how trusting the omega is, allowing Steve to slide up to him, chest to back, and pulling up his left leg to expose his hole. 

“If at any point you need to stop or take a breath, you tell me,” Steve stipulates. “This isn’t supposed to be painful.”

Bucky twists a little so he can look at Steve over his shoulder. “I thought…” 

“I know what omegas are taught in school. It’s all to cater to Alphas. But I know that with proper care and preparation it’ll only feel good. And I want it to feel good, so don’t hesitate to let me know if it doesn’t, okay?”

Bucky swallows, visibly nervous. “Okay.” 

“Good.” Steve kisses his nose, then lines himself up. “Bear down for me.” 

Bucky bites his lip, his breath pausing when he does as asked, and Steve presses in. The pressure is immense, enough to white out Steve’s brain, but he forces himself to keep a close eye on Bucky, to check for any sign of discomfort. It helps him keep his focus away from his own body. He’s going to implode if he doesn’t get release soon. 

“Oh,” Bucky breathes. The lines of his back are tense and his heart is hammering, but he’s not asking Steve to stop. Then Steve finally breaches him and Steve slides inside, a little deeper with each careful thrust. Bucky grabs Steve’s arm, nails digging into his skin. 

“You okay?” Steve asks, breathless. It’s taking everything to keep from thrusting all the way inside into the glorious heat. Sweat is dripping down his temples, pooling on his skin. Bucky's body is gripping him like a vice, impossible heat searing Steve’s body and soul. 

“Yeah, god,” Bucky breathes. He turns his head, asking for a kiss, and Steve delivers. The movement makes him slide deeper into Bucky’s body and they both groan deeply at the feeling. 

It’s not long after that Steve finally bottoms out and he just stays there for a moment, reveling in the feeling. His jaws ache with the desire to bite and claim, but he won’t do that just yet. He wants to get to know Bucky first, and he needs to be sure Bucky would be okay with it too. He nips at the spot though, unable to help himself, and reveling in how Bucky shudders underneath him. 

Bucky relaxes little by little, allowing Steve to move with more ease. Steve grasps the back of Bucky’s neck, helping the omega to relax, and Bucky lets out a whimper so sweet and so full of surrender that Steve has to bite his tongue to keep his victorious roar from slipping free. 

“You like that?” Steve growls, needing to hear Bucky say it even though he already knows. 

“S-steve,” Bucky says, his voice thin. “What are you doing to me. This feels so good.”

“It’s supposed to,” Steve says, nuzzling close so he can bite the meat of Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky arches at the sting, impaling himself deeper on Steve’s cock. 

It doesn’t take long for Bucky to become an incoherent babbling mess, and Steve’s not much better off, but Bucky manages to ask Steve to move back so they’re face to face again. And once again, Steve finds it impossible to deny his omega any request. Bucky smells heavenly, the scent of his arousal heavy in the air, his slick saturating both their groins and the sheets underneath them. Steve wants Bucky’s scent all over him and all over his apartment so that it’s undeniable who he belongs to. 

It feels like an eternity but realistically he knows it doesn’t take long at all. He takes off the condom that’s still around Bucky’s cock so he can touch him skin to skin and jerks him to the rhythm of his thrusts. He moves his hips, searching, and grins wickedly when Bucky lets out a whimper and arches, helpless against the pleasure that Steve bestows him. 

Steve’s knot is growing steadily and he revels in it, feeling it catch at Bucky’s rim. Bucky lets out little cries at every thrust, one hand twisted in the sheets and the other groping at Steve’s shoulder. His head is thrown back, neck exposed in a gesture so obviously full of trust it makes Steve’s heart swell. His face is a picture of ecstasy and Steve licks down Bucky’s neck, sucking on his scent gland. He pushes in deep one final time, his knot trapping him inside Bucky’s lush body. Bucky shouts at the feeling, whimpering helplessly at the unrelenting pressure at his prostate and he tenses up beautifully as he comes, milking Steve’s knot and pulling Steve over the edge with him. 

Steve groans, teeth trapping Bucky’s gland hard enough to bruise, hips grinding as his body works through his mind blowing orgasm. 

When it’s over, they’re both panting and slick with sweat, the room smelling heavily of their pheromones and sex. 

“Wow,” Bucky says. His eyes are unfocused, but a smile is tugging at his mouth. 

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. He pushes in deep through an aftershock, making Bucky groan. He looks down at where they’re joined. “Not the easiest position to be knotted in. You okay? Not sore?”

“I will be tomorrow, I think,” Bucky admits. “That was fantastic though. Thank you.” 

Steve smiles widely and kisses his omega. “Mine,” he whispers against Bucky’s lips. 

“Mine,” Bucky copies back. 

They kiss and cuddle for long, unhurried moments, breathing each other in and touching every bit of skin they can reach. After a while though, Steve’s body is starting to protest its prone position. He wraps his arms around Bucky and turns them both around. With some careful maneuvering they manage to get Steve reclining against the pillows. Steve pulls up his legs so that Bucky can lean back against them, seated in his lap.

“So this is what it feels like to be knotted,” Bucky muses. He sounds sleepy, his voice rough from groaning. He looks down, even though from this position he can’t possibly be seeing much. When he looks back at Steve, his smile is blinding and he wiggles playfully. “Feels great.” 

“Wait ‘till you’re in heat,” Steve says, after the ripple of pleasure Bucky’s wiggle has caused subsides. “It’s even more intense then.” 

“I’m on suppressants,” Bucky admits. 

Steve takes Bucky’s hands, needing to be connected in more places than just the most intimate one. “Me, too. But I’d like to experience a heat with you at some point.” 

“Such a sweet talker you are. I don’t even know your last name yet.” 

That makes Steve laugh, and he moves his hand so he can shake Bucky’s. “Steven Grant Rogers. Nice to meet you.” 

Bucky’s face lights up with a thousand watt smile. “James Buchanan Barnes. The pleasure is mine.”

“James,” Steve says. “Why Bucky?”

“Nat started calling me that in school, because we had three Jameses in one class. It was annoying. The nickname stuck.”

“Nat. The other dancer at the club?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “She’s a great friend. We share an apartment, actually.”

“That’s great,” Steve says, and he means it. An unbonded omega living alone is risky, even in this day and age. He pulls Bucky forward so he can kiss him again and pet down his back, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch. Bucky lets himself be groomed, his body leaning heavily on Steve’s. 

“You’re so solid,” Bucky sighs happily. He nuzzles at Steve’s breastbone and presses a kiss there before he rests his head again. “But I guess firefighters have to have stamina like that.” 

“It helps if they do. I was so small when I grew up though,” Steve admits. “If in utero testing hadn’t pointed out I’d become an Alpha, nobody would’ve guessed it. After I hit puberty and popped my first knot, it was easy to cultivate the body I have now. It helps that I love working out.” 

“Hmm,” Bucky hums. He strokes Steve’s arms, the muscles bunched up from holding Bucky and from residual pheromones. “My workouts are my dances. Lifting weights on machines would bore me to tears.” 

“How did you end up at that club?” Steve asks, genuinely curious. He wouldn’t know how he’d ever have found Bucky had Brock not convinced him to go with him. It’s a bizarre coincidence that doesn’t sit well with him. 

“You got a problem with that?” Bucky asks, defensive. 

Steve pulls back so he can make Bucky look at him. “Did you hear me say that?”

Bucky chews his lip. “No,” he admits. 

“Will you answer my question?” Steve asks, his voice gentle. “I want to get to know you, all about you.”

Bucky sighs, but it’s not from annoyance. He’s thinking. “Basically I could dance before I could walk. I got into Juilliard after high school. It was great. I met Natasha there and we hit it off right away. I wasn’t, like, solo dancer material but definitely good enough for ensembles and background dancing.”

“When did you graduate?” Steve asks. He has no idea how old Bucky is but he’s young, of that he is sure. Something about the way Bucky talks about this isn’t right. 

“I didn’t,” Bucky says on an exhale, and he sounds so sad that Steve has to hug him close, give him comfort for something that probably happened years ago but still causes his omega pain. Even Bucky’s scent changes as he talks, a sour note creeping in at his sadness. 

“What happened?” 

“I was in third year and it was going well, you know? It was winter, one of the last cold days before spring would finally roll around. A car skidded on some black ice as I was crossing the road. Didn’t matter that I had the green light. It slammed into me, busted up my left shoulder. That was the end of my professional dancing career.”

“Oh Bucky,” Steve says, impossibly sad for the pain his mate must have felt that day, and every day after, to have a dream shattered in the blink of an eye. Steve touches the scar on Bucky’s shoulder, fingertips ghosting over the discolored skin. He leans in to brush a kiss against it.

“I didn’t want to go back home. My mom is still raising my two younger sisters, working two jobs to help them through school. I didn’t want to burden her. So I stayed, and Natasha invited me to have a look at the club where she danced on the weekends to pay rent and save up for her student loans. Our chemistry’s great, so we get some good tips whenever we dance together.” 

“I saw that,” Steve says. He’s rubbing down Bucky’s back, still trying to help him relax. Reliving the story of why he had to drop out of school is obviously causing him stress, even now. 

“I never do full nudes,” the omega says suddenly. “A thong, sometimes, when money is slow. But never all out. Natasha doesn’t, either. It’s not really that kind of club anyway.” 

“I know,” Steve says, even though he doesn’t. Bucky’s stressed, his scent betraying his sudden discomfort. Steve works to keep his own scent level, push out as much  _ comfort _ and  _ protection _ as he can. He squeezes the back of Bucky’s neck, his grip not strong enough for a Hold but meant to be comforting, and Bucky grows heavier on top of him, tension bleeding from his body.

“I wouldn’t have cared if it  _ had _ been that kind of club,” Steve murmurs. “I want you to know that.” 

“Tell me that again when I have to go into my next shift.” 

“I will,” Steve promises. 

It’s true. He doesn’t care. He’s not sure how his Alpha brain will react to the idea of Bucky being touched by strange Alphas, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. 

Bucky yawns into Steve’s neck, then murmurs an apology. “I could sleep.” 

“So sleep,” Steve replies. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

He squeezes the back of Bucky’s neck again reassuringly. It makes Bucky go boneless on top of Steve, the final remnants of tension finally leaving his body. Steve kisses Bucky’s crown and pulls the blankets up over them both. He clicks off the light and settles into the pillows, his entire body buzzing in delight at having his mate so close. 

“How long does your knot usually last?” Bucky asks suddenly when Steve’s close to nodding off himself. 

“Half an hour or so. Although with our mating frenzy it might be a little longer.” 

Bucky clenches down on him, eliciting a groan from Steve. “I like it. Makes me feel safe, somehow.” 

Steve has to kiss Bucky for that, so he does, pouring all the love he already has for this man into it. “Then I’m doing it right,” he whispers. 

Bucky smiles, then hides his face in Steve’s neck to inhale his scent from the source. “Yeah, you are,” the omega admits. “You really are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Twitter: @JC_Sunqueen
> 
> Your response is fuel to warm up my heart <3


	3. 3. Pillow talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now there’s a sight for sore eyes,” Steve says, reeling Bucky in so he can kiss him properly, hands coming to rest on Bucky’s hips. 
> 
> “You mean those waffles?” Bucky sasses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot entered the chat

They come together twice more during the night, and each time Steve’s knot lasts as long as the first time. He has a lot of hormones to work through, he figures. Plus it’s been a while since he was with someone at all. Bucky’s like a dream in his arms, open and trusting, his body welcoming Steve’s like it’s coming home. 

And in a way, they are. 

The sex wears Bucky out though, and after their third encounter, he’s nodding off almost as soon as he’s come, his body wrecked, his spent cock barely able to dribble a few drops. Steve holds him as he sleeps, keeping him safe and secure while he waits until his knot goes down and he can slip out. 

Bucky barely rouses when Steve sneaks away to get a damp washcloth and wash off the sweat and semen from Bucky’s belly and between his legs. 

The omega just sighs and stays pliant, and Steve smiles fondly, his heart bursting with warmth and love for this man he’s only met a few hours back. When he crawls back in bed Bucky snuggles up against him immediately, pressing his nose against the hollow under Steve’s ear and huffing a little sigh. Steve gathers him close and is determined to stay awake for a while to savor the moment, but he slips into sleep the moment his head settles on the pillow. 

Steve has always been a notoriously early riser though, no matter how much sleep he did or didn’t get the night before, and so he wakes up at seven am like he always does. Bucky’s asleep next to him, his face void of all tension in his slumber. His hair is a mess, rumpled from sex, and his lips are slightly parted, their gentle downward curve enticingly on display. 

The scents of sex and their pheromones are heavy in the room. Bucky smells relaxed and content, and Steve’s chest puffs up, his instinct purring at knowing he’s the one who put his omega in this state. 

The Alpha already itches to draw him. Bucky really is out of this world beautiful. Steve spends a solid half hour just watching Bucky sleep, cataloging the lines of his body as they move with his breaths. His stomach is concave in his prone position, the sheet enticingly low on his hips. Like a trusting pup - belly up, throat exposed. 

Steve’ll skip his daily morning run. He doesn’t want to leave Bucky alone in his apartment, for fear of him waking up alone and disoriented. He doesn’t want to leave Bucky’s side, period. There are so many things he wants to ask his mate. So many things he wants to know. So many patches of skin he still needs to map out with touches and kisses. 

He barely manages to resist the temptation to touch Bucky. He aches to, but Bucky’s clearly really tired and it would be a crime to wake him up when he’s sleeping so peacefully. So Steve carefully unties himself from Bucky’s grip and slips out of his bedroom to make coffee and have some breakfast. 

His body stiff in interesting places, Steve revels in the sensation as he sets his coffee maker to work and checks his fridge for something easy to eat. He can cook up something decent when Bucky wakes. For now, he’ll just have something to keep the worst of the hunger at bay. 

Bucky stays asleep, though. By noon, Steve has already taken a quick shower, hoping that the sounds would wake Bucky up, to no avail. He is just about to just go kiss his mate awake when he hears banging on the door. Startled and frowning, he makes his way to the little spy hole to check who’s there. Nobody he buzzed up, that’s for sure, and the people in his building are usually pretty fastidious about not letting sales people up. 

Distorted but recognizable through the little spy, Steve recognizes the other dancer from last night. Her vivid red hair, which is apparently not a wig, is tied back in a pony tail. She looks furiously annoyed and knocks on the door again. “I will call the police if you don’t open up this door, Alpha.” 

Steve unlocks the bolt and opens his door. “No need for that,” he says. “Can I help you?”

“Where is he?” she asks, her face serious. “Where’s James?”

“He’s still asleep,” Steve says, a frown ghosting over his brows. “Why are you here?” She’s a beta, he can smell that now. A fierce one, but still a beta. He sees how she could pose as an Alpha even though female Alphas are extremely rare. 

“To check on him. He hasn’t answered his phone since he sent me that location, so I need to know he’s safe.” 

“He is,” Steve says. “I appreciate you checking up on him. I’ll let him know you came by.” 

Before he can close the door, she’s slipped past him into his apartment, looking around and finding first his studio, then the bedroom. He’s caught up with her the moment she notices Bucky, still asleep in Steve’s bed. As soon as Steve appears in the doorway, Bucky turns towards him in his slumber, his body responding to Steve’s scent unconsciously. 

“Happy?” Steve whispers. 

The redhead nods, but Steve can tell she’s not fully at ease yet. She’s subtly scenting the air, in which the scents of their mating still linger heavily. Steve would be mortified, but she broke into their space uninvited and if anything she’ll be able to tell both parties were very willing. He guides her away so they don’t disturb Bucky and leads her to the kitchen. “I was going to make coffee. Want some?”

That seems to surprise her, but she shakes her head. 

Steve sticks out his hand anyway. “Steve Rogers,” he says, introducing himself. “Bucky and I are mates.”

“Natasha Romanov,” she replies, shaking his hand. Her grip is firm. “I figured as much. I’ve never seen him so flustered before.” 

“Well, that goes for us both,” Steve says as he turns back to his coffee maker. It gurgles to life. “Thank you for looking out for him.” 

“That’s what friends are for,” she says, but Steve can tell she’s hiding how the compliment pleases her. She looks back at the bedroom, then checks her watch. “Has he not been awake yet?” 

“No,” Steve says. “I was just about to when you barged in.” 

She seems to think that over, but in the end doesn’t comment on it. “He likes waffles for breakfast,” she says, a propos of nothing, and walks to the door. “And pancakes. Anything sweet, really.” 

Steve quirks a smile. “Duly noted.” 

She doesn’t even greet him when she walks out. Damn, he thinks. That is one formidable woman. 

But she did give him sound advice, so he sets to work, bringing out his waffle iron and whisking egg whites to make fluffy pancakes. He’s ravenous himself and he’s pretty sure he wore Bucky out last night, so he figures he can go all out with cooking. 

It makes him happy to provide for his mate, and he can smell the scents of  _ happy _ ,  _ contented  _ and  _ protective  _ around himself. When the breakfast is done, he walks over to his bedroom to wake Bucky up. 

The omega is still sleeping, his scent a thick layer of  _ safe  _ permeating the room, blanketing the heavy scent of sex that’s still lingering. Steve’s heart swells to see him in his bed, still naked, a hint of pubic hair visible over the edge of the blanket. 

He needs to wake Bucky up though, or the pancakes will go stale. He crawls forward on the mattress, lowering himself next to Bucky so he can nuzzle against his temple, inhaling the scents of  _ happy  _ and  _ mate _ . When Bucky doesn’t stir, he moves to the hollow behind Bucky’s ear, nuzzling into the scent gland and licking, letting the intense flavor burst on his tongue. He already can’t get enough of it.

Bucky murmurs something, clearly still very reluctant to wake up. When Steve kisses up his jawline to capture his lips though, Bucky makes a sleepy sound and opens up for Steve, his hand coming up to cup the back of Steve’s head. The kiss is drowsy and slow and enough to make Steve harden in his sweats, which should be physically impossible but there you go. 

When he finally pulls back, Bucky’s eyes are still tiny from sleep but alight with pleasure. “Good morning,” he says quietly. 

His smile really is like the sun, Steve thinks. Hurts to look at, it’s so bright. 

“Morning,” Steve replies. He kisses the tip of Bucky’s nose. “It’s almost noon.”

Bucky’s eyes widen at that, his mouth popping open into an adorable ‘o’. “I slept that long?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I made waffles. Wanna come see?”

Bucky nods. They have to kiss again though, just to see if it still feels the same, and then Bucky stretches languorously, yawning so widely that his jaw cracks. He disappears into the bathroom while Steve finishes setting up the table, pouring some coffee for them both. When Bucky appears, he’s wearing a pair of Steve’s sweats and nothing else. 

He stretches, sweats sinking even lower on his hips. His right arm travels above his head easily; the left barely makes it past his shoulder. Bucky’d explained it to him last night - how the ligaments are permanently damaged. It limits his range of movement in his shoulder. If he wants to lift his left arm above his head, he needs to use his other arm to lift it higher. Or Steve’s, like the Alpha did against the door last night when they came home. 

The sweats cling to Bucky’s hips only barely, and Steve feels lust race through his body when he takes in his omega. 

“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes,” he says, reeling Bucky in so he can kiss him properly, hands coming to rest on Bucky’s hips. 

“You mean those waffles?” Bucky sasses. 

Steve just rolls his eyes and gestures for Bucky to sit down. “I hope you don’t have any allergies.”

Bucky shakes his head, then narrows his eyes. “Why do I smell Nat in here?”

“She came by earlier. You hadn’t checked in so she came to see what was up.”

“Oh, shit,” Bucky says. He looks into the direction of the bedroom. “I’m pretty sure my phone died overnight.”

“I charged it for you. But you didn’t respond to her calls so she came to check.” 

Bucky looks a little disturbed, and a little proud. “She’s fierce like that.” He sits down at the breakfast bar but veers up immediately, grimacing and hissing. “Shit.”

Steve quickly moves closer to his omega. “You okay? Too sore?”

“Maybe a little,” Bucky admits. A flush darkens his cheeks. “You really worked me over last night.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining,” Steve counters, but he rubs Bucky’s back comfortingly anyway as the omega sits down gingerly. “You okay? Maybe I should check, just in case-”

“You are  _ not _ checking  _ that _ ,” Bucky protests, scandalized. “I’m hungry. Please let’s eat?”

Steve reluctantly slides to his side of the breakfast bar and gestures for Bucky to dig in. “I made a lot, don’t feel obliged to eat it all. I just like to provide.” 

That earns him a cheeky smile, Bucky finding his footing again once he starts filling his plate. He moans appreciatively after he’s taken his first bite, the sound similar to the ones he made when Steve went to town on him, jacking him slowly as his knot kept them locked together. His dick twitches, reminding him of all the places he is sore, too.

“You know, I, uh, really enjoyed last night,” Bucky says, pulling Steve out of his reverie. 

It’s endearing and Steve smiles, seeing Bucky’s insecurity for what it is. “Me, too,” Steve replies. “I’d like to do it again soon. Tonight, preferably.”

Bucky’s eyes light up at that. “Yeah?”

Steve takes Bucky’s hand over the breakfast bar. “We’re mates. I don’t want to let you out of my sight at all. This isn’t usual dating. You know that, right?”

Bucky smiles bashfully. “I have little experience in this context,” he admits. “The few dates I’ve had were all awkward, probably because I didn’t want to put out. But it never felt right.”

“I’m glad you waited,” Steve growls. “I’m glad I got to be your first.”

“I’m glad you were mine.” 

It’s ridiculously sappy and Steve knows it’s showing on both their faces. 

“We only have to do what feels good,” Steve says. Then he snorts. “That’s just about the only good part about mating, I think.”

“You don’t want to…?” Bucky asks carefully. He focuses on dabbing the last of the whipped cream off his plate with a piece of strawberry, refusing to meet Steve’s gaze. “You didn’t claim me.” Sudden sadness and anxiety creeps into Bucky’s scent, and Steve immediately, painfully realizes what he did wrong.

“No! No,” he starts, and Bucky’s face falls. He’s already getting up but Steve stops him with a gentle hand on his arm. “I want you,” he says bluntly, so there’s no mistake in that. “You don’t know how much effort it took me to refrain from biting you last night.” He walks around the little breakfast bar so he can slot himself in between Bucky’s legs, getting all up in his space.

Bucky lets him, but he frowns anyway, his eyes flitting back and forth as he searches Steve’s gaze. “But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” Steve agrees. “It’s a lifetime commitment and I don’t want to trap you like that. You’re so young still-”

“I’m twenty five,” Bucky protests. “I know what I want.”

“Not saying you don’t,” Steve responds. “Just saying we have time. Our bond isn’t less strong just because we aren’t mated. Besides, I want to do it properly, not in a frenzy and not while we’re still wearing rubbers.”

Bucky relaxes at that, his scent easing into something sweet smelling again. Steve nuzzles closer anyway, hoping to chase away the final remnants of the acrid stench of sadness by his proximity. 

The omega lets him, sighing quietly as he tilts his head to bare his neck. Steve lets out a pleased growl. “Your trust is a treasure,” he murmurs against Bucky’s skin.

“I’ve never done that before, with anyone,” Bucky admits. “I never wanted to let anyone this close. ’s Just easy, with you.”

Steve crowds even closer, pulling back just enough so he can kiss Bucky. He grips the back of Bucky’s neck, finding feral enjoyment in the way Bucky goes pliant under Steve’s hand. It’s not a real Hold; he wouldn’t do that without thoroughly discussing it with Bucky first, but seeing his omega react this purely to even this subtle gesture makes Steve’s chest swell. 

Their lips are sticky from the sugar they had for breakfast and Steve can’t help but lick in deep, getting all that taste on his tongue. 

When they pull back for air, Bucky grins. His lips are red and shiny, and his eyes are hooded with lust. He smells interested, the pheromones billowing around him in heady waves. “I want to go back to bed with you, but I’m too sore.”

Steve’s eyes darken. “Let’s take a shower then, and I’ll kiss it better after.” 

Bucky’s arousal spikes at the promise, and he lets Steve take his hand to guide him to the bathroom first, and then to bed. 

* * *

Later, after Steve’s made sure,  _ very thoroughly _ , that Bucky didn’t overdo himself the night before, and after Bucky’s enthusiastic though unsuccessful attempts at giving Steve a decent blowjob, they laze in bed together, legs intertwined. 

In the living room, a phone buzzes. 

“That’s probably Nat,” Bucky mumbles into the hollow of Steve’s neck. He presses himself closer to the Alpha, showing no intention at all to get up and answer the call.

“As long as she doesn’t come barging in again,” Steve muses. 

“Probably not,” Bucky says muzzily. He sounds close to sleep. “I wanna stay here forever. Do you have to work tonight?”

“I took the day off. How about you?”

Bucky chuckles. “There’s no way I’m going to get your smell washed off me enough in time to actually make a dime, so I’ll call in. Not that I’d want to leave you right now.”

“I don’t want you to leave, either,” Steve says. He squeezes Bucky closer, eliciting a happy hum from the omega. He smells sated and relaxed, and Steve keeps taking deep breaths just to fill his lungs with the heady scent. “I still can’t believe how I found you by sheer coincidence.”

“You would’ve, sooner or later,” Bucky says. He doesn’t sound like he’s surprised by last night’s turn of events. “That Alpha you came with? He’s there almost every other week.”

“You mean Brock?” Steve asks. 

“We call him Captain Crap, but I guess Brock works too,” Bucky says with a shrug. Steve bites his lips to hide a smile. “Nat hates his guts. He can never keep his hands to himself.” 

Steve frowns at that. “But you came really close to him.”

“He broke the rules once, when he ordered a lap dance from me. He’s not even into men, he just wanted to tear me down, I guess. Anyway, he touched my ass, I broke his dick. I like to rub it in sometimes, that he can’t touch me again or he’ll meet my boss’ wrath. I like it.”

A feral wave of protectiveness and rage tears through Steve and he growls before he can help himself, his whole body tensing as his biology prepares him to fight the Alpha that hurt Bucky. 

“Ssh,” Bucky coos. He seems barely alarmed by Steve’s reaction, sensing instinctively it’s not directed at him. He grips Steve closer, pushing the Alpha’s nose into the hollow of his neck. “You’re okay. I’m okay.”

Steve takes some calming breaths, waiting for his heart and his scent to calm down again. “I don’t like that your job puts you in danger like that.”

“You run into burning buildings for a living. I can say the same about you,” Bucky deadpans, and Steve has to agree that the omega has a point. 

And then a realization hits. Bucky’s retaliation against Brock.  _ That’s _ why Brock came into work with a limp some months earlier. Not because he’d pulled his hamstring during a work-out, like he said. Steve tries, and then fails, to hold in his laughter and he cackles until he’s shaking with it. 

When he looks down at Bucky, the omega has a curious look on his face. 

“He said he hurt himself working out,” Steve says by way of explanation. “This is priceless. I’m proud of you for defending yourself.”

“It’s a tough world out there,” Bucky replies. “Hey, he’s not your boss or anything, right?”

“Oh hell no,” Steve says. “I’m his.”

“Even better.”

They settle back in, hands gently roaming until Steve remembers something from the night before. “You said you didn’t want to stop dancing.”

“I did,” Bucky says carefully. “Why?”

“I don’t want you to stop doing something you like, but you need to consider that once we’re mated you probably won’t be able to tolerate anybody else’s touch anymore.”

Bucky tenses. “I never knew that.”

“I only just thought of it too. But we have plenty of time to figure it all out. I can control my instincts and refrain from claiming you if that’s what you want.”

“That’s unnatural,” Bucky protests. 

Steve gathers Bucky closer and kisses his crown. “We’ll figure it out. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”

“Aren’t Alphas supposed to take the lead,” Bucky says, half curious, half joking. 

“I know what I’ll want, in time, but if you don’t want it too it’s a moot point, isn’t it? My only desire is to make you happy for the rest of my days. In whichever way I can.”

Bucky pulls back, an incredulous look on his face. “You are a terrible sap.”

Steve laughs. “It’s to make up for my terrible game.”

Bucky kisses the tip of Steve’s nose. “But I want your bite.”

“You’ll get it. When we’re both ready.”

“Are you ready now?”

Steve laughs at that and shakes his head. “I’m ready for food. How’s that sound?”

Bucky pouts, and it’s so adorable that Steve has to kiss him for it, then trails down Bucky’s jaw to scrape his teeth over the scent gland in the hollow under Bucky’s ear. 

“Tease,” Bucky complains, but he clutches Steve close until both their stomachs let out displeased rumbles. 

They roll out of bed eventually, Bucky helping Steve make dinner. Steve’s more distracted than not. Bucky’s chatty when he starts to relax more around Steve, regaling him with fun stories about his childhood and even from work. He asks Steve a hundred questions too, from why he became a firefighter to what he does when he’s not ‘putting his life in danger’. 

So Steve shows Bucky some of his art, and it shuts Bucky up for a solid few minutes as he leafs through Steve’s sketchbooks while Steve finishes up the cooking. 

“I want to draw you sometime,” he says as he sits down next to Bucky on the couch, holding two steaming plates of food. Bucky puts away the sketchbook reverently before he takes his plate from Steve. They’re supposed to watch a movie, the tv all set up, but somehow Steve doubts they’ll actually see much of it. 

“Why didn’t you go to art school?’ Bucky asks. He seems truly appalled. “You are really talented.”

“I wasn’t when I was younger. I was actually planning to study law. But my mom got sick with cancer during my junior year of high school. We used up all savings to pay for her treatments. By the time she passed away, my grades had plummeted so I couldn’t apply for any scholarship anymore. Firefighting meant being able to work my way through college.”

“Jesus, Steve,” Bucky whispers. “That’s awful. I am so sorry for your loss. Your dream shattered, too.” 

Steve gives Bucky a half smile. “Can’t compare it to your pain, baby. It happened over fifteen years ago. I’m fine with where I am right now. I got better at drawing over the years. You should see where I started.”

“Have you never tried to sell it? Or do, like, an exhibition?”

“Eat, before it gets cold. And no. I never felt the compulsion.”

Bucky looks at him searchingly. “You really hate the spotlight, huh.”

Steve nearly chokes on his food at this painfully accurate analysis. “Well.”

“I could tell when I pulled you on the stage yesterday. I thought you were going to walk out.” 

“Then why did you?”

Bucky shuffles closer so he can nuzzle into Steve’s throat. “Best thing I’ve ever smelled. How could I not?”

Steve grins and pecks Bucky on the cheek, then gestures at Bucky’s plate for the second time. “Eat.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Bucky mocks, and then his eyes sparkle when he sees Steve trying to hide his response to the sign of submission. Bucky cheekily forks a bite of food into his mouth, the apples of his cheeks nearly glowing with his glee. “I only submit if you’re nice,” he warns.

“Don’t tempt me,” Steve warns, voice low. 

Bucky’s smile fades. When Steve’s hand lands on the back of his neck, the omega’s breath shudders out, his eyes darkening as he gives in to Steve’s gesture. 

“I see we have a lot to explore,” Steve muses, his voice still low, dripping with promise. 

“Let’s eat before it gets cold,” Bucky says meekly, and Steve holds back his amused smile at the omega who clearly bit off more than he could chew. Figuratively, that is.

They do end up watching some movies, lying lazily on the couch. Steve can’t stop touching Bucky, but Bucky’s getting more comfortable touching Steve as well. His hands disappear under Steve’s sweater to glide over the Alpha’s skin, mapping out his angles and curves while his head is resting on Steve’s chest.

“I’m so hot for you,” Bucky murmurs. “But. Also really sore.”

Steve smiles and pulls Bucky in for a kiss. “Plenty other things we can do. And there’s always tomorrow.”

Bucky’s eyes light up at that. “I’ll probably have to go in tomorrow night though,” he says then. “Saturdays are always the best nights of the week. I still need to make rent.”

Steve cocks his head at that. “Somehow I didn’t quite peg you as someone who lives paycheck to paycheck.” It’s a bad assumption, and he wants to take back his words as soon as they leave his mouth.

“Oh,” Bucky says, not at all annoyed by Steve’s words. “The club pays well enough. But my mom’s washer broke. I gave her money for a new one.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Steve says. He hugs Bucky closer. “Where’s your dad? Can I ask?”

Bucky snorts at that, a derisive sound. “Left us when I was too young to even miss him. Deadbeat drunk. We’re better off without him. My mom kicked him out when she had enough.”

“Your mom sounds fierce.”

“Well, I didn’t get my ferocity from a stranger,” Bucky says flippantly. 

“I’d like to meet her someday.”

Bucky tenses. He tries to hide it, but with his body fully aligned with Steve’s on the couch, there’s no concealing it. Especially when Bucky’s scent changes to stressed and anxious.

“Buck?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Steve frowns and squeezes the omega. “Don’t lie to me.”

“She doesn’t know what I do for a living,” Bucky confesses. His voice sounds muffled from where he’s hiding his face in Steve’s chest. “She thinks I found a job dancing even though I couldn’t finish school.”

“Which is technically true.”

“Yeah, but, like… She’d be so disappointed if she knew what kind of dancing I did. I’ve never had the guts to tell her, and now it’s been years, and.”

“It’s becoming impossible,” Steve finishes for him. “I think I understand that. But would she really judge you so badly over it?”

“I’m afraid she will,” Bucky says. “My sisters are still in college. I don’t want them to get bullied because of what I do.”

Steve rubs Bucky’s back, trying to calm him down and get the smell of his discomfort to settle again. “And you don’t want me to lie as well when we go see her,” he guesses after a long silence. 

“I can’t ask that of anyone. This is a hole I dug myself.”

When Steve stays silent, Bucky chuckles in spite of the heavy mood. “You’re trying not to make a pun on the hole part, aren’t you.”

“I am so sorry,” Steve groans, resting his forehead on Bucky’s crown. 

“You did warn me you have terrible game,” Bucky says placatingly. 

“You can still back out. You don’t have my bite yet.”

Bucky pretends to contemplate this seriously. ‘Nah,” he says after a while. “I think I’ll stick around.” 

He deserves a hug for that. 

“Do you miss them? Your family?”

“Terribly. I speak to them on video calls a lot, but traveling back home is expensive. I wire money when I can.”

“Where do they think you work?” Steve asks, curious. 

“In a club. The actual dancing kind.” 

Steve thinks of his own mother. He didn’t get to keep her for long, but he remembers her unconditional love. He can’t imagine Bucky’s mother judging him. Bucky’s so kindhearted and generous, his mother has to be the same.

“Where do they live?”

“Upstate, near Vermont.”

“And you?”

“I’m actually quite close to here. I could walk it on a nice day.”

“I’d rather you move in,” Steve rumbles. 

Bucky lets out a breathless laugh. “My mother always told me to take it slow.” He’s trying to hide his concerns behind a joke, Steve can tell. 

“I’m just saying, there’s a place for you here if you want it. But if you want to keep your apartment, I’ll deal with that.”

Bucky leans up on an elbow so he can look at Steve. “Don’t be such a martyr. It would suck for you to be away from me if you don’t want that.”

“It would suck for you to be close to me if you didn’t want that,” Steve counters easily. “It’s all about finding a balance.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and settles back on Steve’s chest. “Let’s find a balance between having some fun without getting more sore than I already am,” he says, changing the subject. 

Steve grins and flips them over so that Bucky is on his back. “I have an idea,” he purrs, already starting to kiss down Bucky’s chest. 

* * *

They find a way to make it work, in the end. It takes some experimenting, but they soon learn that Bucky  _ can _ bear being touched by other Alphas, as long as Steve is close. So once a week, Steve’s at the club, hiding in the shadows, watching with glittering eyes as Bucky undulates on the stage. And if the omega gets visibly aroused from feeling his mate’s eyes on him, it only makes him more money. 

Bucky’s shifts with Steve present become prolonged foreplay sessions in which Bucky will go out of his way to drive Steve up the wall with possessiveness and desire. Sometimes they don’t even make it home and they fuck in the club’s bathroom. Sometimes they like to ride the wave of anticipation and desire as long as possible. On those nights, Bucky will give Steve a lapdance at home, using moves that are too dirty for the club, and Steve will not be allowed to touch. Bucky loves being in control like that, loves riling Steve up until his eyes are blackened with lust and his pheromones are cloying the air around them. He likes writhing on Steve’s lap, looking down at the Alpha with a knowing smirk as he rubs close, letting his own arousal leak through and rubbing his scent glands all over Steve’s chest.

And if Bucky likes to wear the mask at home, too... Well. 

Steve is not going to complain. 

And then, when Bucky’s sure he’ll come if Steve so much as  _ breathes _ on him, Steve will take over, tackling Bucky to the bed. And Bucky will surrender control so sweetly, every single time, letting Steve pin his arms above his head and baring his neck for his Alpha to claim. Turns out Bucky doesn’t have any issue presenting, after all. He secretly loves it, in fact.

Steve’ll take his time opening Bucky up, always a payback for making the Alpha wait, and then, when he can fit four fingers and Bucky is beyond any coherence, Steve will pull Bucky on top of him and fuck into him with abandon, holding the omega close with strong arms around his waist and teeth clamping down on the bond mark on his neck. 

All Bucky can do is cling, the sounds he makes barely recognizable as his own, his hiccups and moans traveling straight from Steve’s ear into his brain. And then when his knot catches Steve’ll slow to a dirty grind, his fingers traveling down to ghost at where Bucky’s rim is stretched around Steve’s swelling cock. It makes Bucky come more often than not, a helpless whimper escaping him as he surrenders completely, going limp on top of Steve and letting the Alpha take over, take care of him. Steve fills Bucky’s head with a litany of dirty talk, helpless himself to keep his mouth shut when his omega feels so perfect on top of him, around him. 

They know they can’t keep this up forever. Steve’s possessiveness makes him aggressive to other patrons of the club, and they’ve had a near miss before when an Alpha came too close to Bucky for Steve’s liking. But for now, it works. 

Clint joins Steve at the club sometimes, to see Nat dance. So far he hasn’t made any progress as far as Steve can tell, but Bucky swears high and low that some day soon, Nat will acknowledge Clint’s existence. So Clint keeps visiting, studiously ignoring Steve and his raging pheromones. 

Sam hasn’t joined them at the club after that first night, because, in his words, he ‘did not sign up for this shit’. Steve can’t blame him. They have drinks on other nights, their friendship thankfully still intact. Sam and Bucky love to hate each other, their bitching often so inadvertently funny they’ll crack each other up, rendering their death glares moot. 

  
  


The freshly mated couple are planning to go see Bucky’s mom for Thanksgiving, too. It takes him a few weeks, but after Steve has claimed Bucky properly, the omega finds he no longer wants to lie to his mother. He writes her a long letter, explaining everything and confessing where he met Steve. Winifred Barnes calls him the moment she’s read Bucky’s words, telling him tearfully that she loves him anyway but that she will scold him properly when he comes home for the holidays. Bucky accepts it with grace and promises to stay safe. 

Steve can tell Bucky feels lighter after he’s spoken to his mom. His sisters are next on the list. And where Bucky fears they’ll be ashamed or disgusted, Bekah especially demands he teaches her some moves pronto. Winnie jr. is less enthusiastic but shrugs it off with an “I guess there’s worse things you can do for a living.”

Steve holds Bucky close after they end the call, and Bucky nuzzles into the hollow of Steve’s throat. “Thank you,” he murmurs against Steve’s skin. 

Steve squeezes him. “I’m proud of you,” he says quietly. 

The ring is waiting in the back of his closet. He’ll propose after the Thanksgiving dinner. 

Winifred was very, very fond of the idea.

Steve can’t wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been such a fun ride! Thanks for your wonderful response to this little story. I was nervous about posting a/b/o, but now I'm glad I did <3

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and kudos are a writer's fuel. Keep me warm for the holidays?


End file.
